


Love Bite

by BroadwayBelle



Category: Fosse/Verdon (TV)
Genre: F/M, Party, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2021-01-25 23:15:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21364264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BroadwayBelle/pseuds/BroadwayBelle
Summary: This scene takes place during the first episode of the miniseries; everyone is preparing to celebrate the release of the film 'Sweet Charity'.  A romantic encounter quickly turns sour.
Relationships: Bob Fosse/Gwen Verdon
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	Love Bite

**Author's Note:**

> This is the second of my 'Fosse' stories; once again I've left the names of the individuals out, but they are included in the tags for the story. I imagine my third story being a multi-chaptered piece, and there's a good chance that names may be used. Historical fiction based on real people (think of Alexander Hamilton and many of our other Founding Fathers) is very much all the rage right now.

There was going to be a party at the corner of 69th street, in Central Park West, celebrating the release of an upcoming movie. Early buzz for the film seemed promising, but the first time director remained a bundle of nerves. The project had been near and dear to his heart, a welcome back to Broadway gift for his wife after taking a three-year hiatus to raise their child. She had been adamant about being a mother first, staying occupied with the occasional interview and talk show visit that would fit in with her schedule. _Sweet Charity_ turned out to be the perfect comeback for the fiery redhead, taking what could be one of her final major roles on the stage. The show proved successful enough to warrant a Hollywood film version, with her husband getting his very first shot at directing a movie.

It had been decided very early on that the star on Broadway would not be selected to duplicate her role in the film. The Hollywood power players were demanding a star name to be paired with the first time director, and there was no amount of cajoling that would change anyone’s mind. If the original Charity showed any bitterness about losing out on a movie role, she had refused to let it show, instead throwing herself into the film process along with her husband. She trained the woman who would replace her and made a point of praising her in the press, along with her entrepreneurial husband who was in love with his new role as a film director.

The hostess put the final touches on her curly red locks in the master bathroom. “Listen I wanted to tell you, I stopped by the theatre on the way home.”

“Hmm,” the host sighed, smoothing out his beard.

“There were people lined up all the way down the avenue to buy tickets,” she encouraged.

“Maybe they were there to see The Love Bug,” he smirked.

“The theatre only has one screen and you know it,” she laughed, crossing into the bedroom.

“Well, but do they know that?” he challenged, straightening his tie.

“Well I didn’t ask them.”

He paused to appraise his wife’s ensemble – an emerald green pantsuit that when she moved, gave the appearance of a full-length dress. “Is that new?”

“I made it for tonight. Do you like it?” She braced herself against the entryway to the bathroom, relying on her husband’s keen eye. “Can you zip me?”

He cast a furtive glance behind him, ensuring that they were still completely alone. Without saying a word, he played with her zipper, slowing lowering it down her body.

“You’re going in the wrong direction,” she breathlessly corrected, feeling him her closer to him.

“Am I?” he queried, placing a string of kisses down her neck, his arms hugging her hips.

“Our guests will be here in five minutes,” she protested, attempting in vain to keep her composure.

Intent on his pursuit, he pivoted her body, backing her up against the wall. “You know it’s always good to keep your audience waiting.” In one swift move, he lifted his foot to close the bedroom door, assuring them of privacy for a few more minutes.

She let out a low moan, one foot propped against the wall as she clung to him for support. “I suppose you’re right. You are after all the big shot director.”

“It’s only one film.”

“One of many,” she corrected between kisses.

The host let out a low laugh as he lowered the sleeve of the jumpsuit, playing with the fabric. He relied on the praise of others to thrive, especially hers. “Counting our chickens before they hatch aren’t we?” he pressed.

She tickled the bald spot behind his ear. “I’m being realistic, based on the early reviews, the feedback, the fact that the film is,” she let out a low gasp as he blew into her ear, “Art!”

“Say it again,” he pressed, moving to her other ear.

“You’re an expert artist,” she moaned, moving her head ever so slightly. “A visionary…Ahhh!” Her hand moved up to the left side of her neck, which now felt like fire.

The director instinctively took a step back. “What happened?”

“You,” she pointed with her spare hand, “I think you gave me a hickey!” she finished breathlessly, bolting to the bathroom mirror to assess the damage.

A low laugh emitted from the gentleman as he stood in the doorway, leaning on the bathroom door. “What?”

“You bit me!” she hissed, the romantic moment now destroyed. “It’ll be there for days.”

He came up behind his partner, touching her shoulder. “Let me see it,” he offered.

She shook off his arm. “You’ve done quite enough!” Preening in the mirror, she could see the purple mark beginning to form, signaling that a blood vessel was now broken. “You went too far,” she moaned.

Placing a hand on his hips, he attempted to look over her shoulder. “If I remember correctly, you weren’t exactly pushing me away now were you?”

“Oh, you…”

Lowering his turtle neck to one side, a low smirk formed on his mouth. “Care to even the score?”

“What?”

He pointed to his neck. “Tit for tat, go right on ahead.”

Her mouth formed into a straight line. “You must be joking?”

“If it’ll make you feel better, I can take a little discomfort.”

“Discomfort, discomfort?” Pointing at the growing mark, she continued, “This goes beyond discomfort, this is humiliating.”

“My offer still stands,” he proffered, attempting to ease the tension in the room.

“It’s different for men. You can wear a love bite as a badge of honor and joke about it with your buddies. For women, it’s…” she searched for words. “Well it’s different, okay!”

He threw his hands up in surrender. “Okay. Maybe you can cover it with a little more makeup?” he suggested.

“I’ll look like a ghost!” she shouted, angrily pushing her makeup off the vanity counter.

“A scarf!” he interjected. “That emerald silk scarf that I got you for your birthday last year – you’ll be stunning. You always are.” He stretched his hand to touch her right cheek. “When everyone takes one look at you in that outfit, no one will notice a little blemish on your cheek.”

Her tight curls shook with the rest of her body, rejecting his touch. “They’re here,” she pointed to the door, gesturing to the noises emitting from the sitting room. “Go downstairs, greet out guests, and I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

“Sweetheart…”

“Give me time,” she pleaded. “Go.”

The director obediently opened the door to the bedroom. “I’m sorry.”

“I know you are,” she sighed, not ready to accept an apology, however sincere it seemed. As the door closed behind her, she turned back to her bureau to mask her temporary yet highly inconvenient mark.

In the living room, the host struggled to maintain an upbeat attitude without his loyal hostess at his side. He decided against cracking jokes about his wife running behind, given that he was already in the doghouse. The well-wishes of his friends and colleagues did little to ease his mind. There was always the chance that the film wouldn’t succeed, he knew full well that there were people betting against him from the beginning – a first time director on a big-budget movie with no one to reign him in.

Alcohol seemed to be the only solace to ease raw nerves, and luckily for him, there was more than enough to around for everyone. At this point, there was only one person who could get him to put down his glass and circulate. Fortunately for him, she appeared once more at his side.

A long hand removed the glass from his hand, placing it on the table. “I guess I was a little later than I thought I would be.”

A low smile escaped from the director. “You always know how to make an entrance.”

“I’ve learned from you.” Taking his arm, she started for the center of the room.

“Wait,” he pulled her aside, his head close to hers. “You sure you’re alright?”

The hostess adjusted her scarf and pulled the host in for a kiss, playfully biting down on his bottom lip. “You said I could get even, right?”

The gentleman reached for a cocktail napkin and blotted his bottom lip. “I sure did.”

“Good,” she laughed, caressing his arm, signaling that all was forgiven.

Placing his arm at the small of her back, the power couple sauntered into the kitchen to entertain guests with the tale of a certain choreographer who managed to involve the police after trying to visit his wife’s dressing room after a performance.


End file.
